"I wanna grab my waifu's boobies."
That was the first thing Nero said after a soul-sucking 6-hour gacha grindathon across five different games.
His voice was hoarse, his dull eyes, two dead fish marinated in despair, and his spine?
Bent like a cursed relic from too much chair time.
"Uhhh…"
He slumped deeper into his gaming chair, an off-brand one he got on discount with a promo code that promised "elite posture support.", which was utter bullshit after experiencing it.
His screen still flashed the aftermath of his last pity pull: a useless SR-tier weapon shaped like a wooden spoon.
… How is even a goddamn wooden spoon an SR-tier weapon?
"Damnit… Just me and my luck."
Nero was sure the devs were drunk when updating their game.
He stared at the "weapon" like it murdered his family.
A single bead of sweat slid down his temple.
"That's it. I'm done. Reality can suck it."
He had to raise both of his hands in resignation.
He swiveled dramatically, spinning in place as if trying to escape the orbit of his own shame.
Putting his gaze upwards, his extremely ordinary eyes reflected complex lights, as memories of what he experienced flashed through his mind.
Nero's life… if you could even call it that, was basically one long anime filler arc.
He had no job.
At least not in the boomer 9-to-5 sense.
He wasn't homeless, just "indoor feral."
His income came from freelance commissions, stuff like: "write a 10k word doujin with a reverse harem of demon boys but make it wholesome."
Or proofreading fan-made Light Novels that somehow had 80 different characters introduced by Chapter 3.
Some nights, he even edited voice-over scripts for budget hentai games from Eastern Europe.
It wasn't glamorous.
But it paid.
Although his small apartment room was a safe haven for all weebs, somehow, Nero only felt emptier by the day.
He could afford fast internet, enough snacks to survive winter if it ever came (it didn't), and a collection of anime figures that stared at him silently with either judgement or approval.
… Maybe both.
His fridge held only energy drinks, cold pizza, and guilt.
His heart, on the other hand, held nothing but trashy romance plotlines and the unshakeable belief that reincarnation was a real career option.
If you asked him, life wasn't "bad", per se.
It was just… background noise.
Like being an extra in a movie you weren't cast in… with no spotlight or whatever on him, unlike others who made it big and were living fulfilling lives, having their own family.
Sure, he didn't have friends outside of social medias.
No, he wasn't dating anyone unless you counted the time he messaged a VTuber and she "liked" his donation.
… But despite that, he wasn't unhappy.
Just bored.
So bored that sometimes he genuinely hoped a truck would hit him.
Not to die.
But to isekai his sorry ass into another world where he could finally be "somebody".
Not "Nero the guy with suspicious sleep cycles and a caffeine dependency."
But Nero the Arch-Wizard.
Nero the Shadow Blade.
Nero the Hero that saved the world.
… Nero the guy whose harem actually exists beyond JPEGs.
He didn't want much.
Just absurd magical powers, immortality, maybe a tail.
And definitely a waifu or three.
Yep, definitely that part. It's important.
His eyes twitched open like a light flickering in a haunted hallway.
"What if…" he whispered, brain cells connecting like unstable Wi-Fi.
"What if I just summoned one? A real one."
The silence around him tightened, waiting.
He leapt from his chair like he'd been shot with a burst of divine inspiration.
He was going to do it.
He was going to summon his own waifu!
Not just something imaginary.
Not roleplay.
Not a dream.
He was going full madman tonight.
… Yep, Nero finally lost it.
He ran around the room, grabbing whatever vaguely magical item he could find:
Incense sticks from that one phase he tried "witchcore aesthetic",
A plushie of his favorite anime girl,
A cracked tablet with an expired tarot app,
And the sleeve of a limited edition Blu-ray that cost way too much.
He arranged them all in a circle like an idiot druid hopped up on hope and unmedicated enthusiasm.
Then he stood in the center, eyes wild, anime OST blasting from his Bluetooth speaker.
"Great spirits of waifu-ism! Let me lay my mortal hands upon thou blessed oppai!" he bellowed.
"Grant me thy power of plot armor, ridiculous strength, and a transformation sequence with fireworks and maybe a dragon!"
He clapped.
He stomped.
He spun in place with his arms raised.
His voice cracked from reverence.
He sounded like a rooster being exorcised.
… Somewhere outside, a dog barked.
A baby cried.
A neighbor screamed, "Shut the hell up, you crazy bastard!"
It didn't sound like it was the first time this insanity happened.
But of course, Nero didn't stop.
He was in too deep now.
This wasn't a joke anymore.
This was "destiny.exe" running on ultra settings!
And then, it happened…
*Whooosshh…*
The air… suddenly shifted.
That's when he felt it.
The room pulsed, like reality took a breath.
The glow from his monitor turned static-white, buzzing faintly.
The half-dead LED strips on his desk flickered violently like they were trying to spell Morse code.
He froze.
"Wait, what…?"
A low hum began to vibrate through the floor, then through his bones.
His half-drunk energy drink fizzed violently and tipped over without warning.
The candle flame stretched straight up like it saw something terrifying.
His plushie tumbled off the desk and hit the ground with a soft thud, and for a second, he swore it blinked.
Then the lights died.
Everything snapped into darkness.
Total, oppressive, void-like nothingness.
And just when he thought the moment passed, that he was just sleep-deprived and on the verge of hallucinating…
A voice spoke.
A voice not from his headphones.
Not from the speakers.
Not from any physical direction at all.
Flat. Monotone. Cold.
Almost… robotic.
It spoke directly to his mind.
[Earth Rebirth V.2.0… Detected.]
Nero's mouth dropped open.
His brain tried to catch up.
"… No way."
Silence.
Then the voice resounded in his head again.
[Installation complete. Patch notes loaded.]
He stumbled backward, his foot catching on the futon.
He crashed to the floor with a yelp, limbs tangled.
He squinted at the dark, trying to spot some projection, some prank… anything.
His heart thundered like a loot drop he didn't deserve.
Was this a dream?
A psychotic break?
A reward for years of being a degenerate?
"D-Did I actually do it?" he croaked.
No answer.
Just a final line.
Cool. Simple. Blunt.
[Welcome To Earth Rebirth V.2.0]
Then,
Silence.
He sat there, eyes wide.
Mind racing.
Numb fingers clutching the plushie he swore blinked earlier.
Somewhere far away, a car alarm went off.
But inside that room, inside Nero's chaotic, anime-filled, trash-ridden sanctuary…
"... Wow, that actually worked?"